


Trading Cards

by gwmclintock88



Series: Live Grenades [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Spoilers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Feels!, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nerd!Natasha (mentioned only), second meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 07:52:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1680542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwmclintock88/pseuds/gwmclintock88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watching over Fitz was her job. He had her back, she had his. That was the way things works. She wasn't leaving the room for any reason. Well, Captain America asking seemed like a good reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trading Cards

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This story occurs after CA:TWS and Agents of SHIELD finale. If you haven't seen either, well, I'm sorry. Both were terrific. So stop reading this, go out and see The Winter Soldier. I'll wait.
> 
> ...
> 
> We good? Everyone seen it? Okay. Back to the notes. 
> 
> Now, the spoilers for Agents of SHIELD are a little more specific and while I can't demand that you watch the show (but you should, and I'll admit, I'll be disappointed in you a little if you haven't), the finale will help you with this. 
> 
> This story takes place in my Live Grenades universe, after A Gift from Coulson and Late Night Meetings. I would read both of those before you read this. 
> 
> (You don't have to, but they would help you understand this story a little more. Plus, I always like to see more people reading these and get more feedback.)
> 
> Enjoy.

            Standing over the recovering body of her best friend, Simmons mentally reviewed every biology book she had. But the pages meshed together, blurred behind tears she remembered from high school and now felt trying to take her down. Fury may have pulled them out of the water, Coulson may have saved them from the Clairvoyant and Ward (no, Simmons, we’re not going to be thinking about that right now), HYDRA may have been scattered to the wind or not, but none of that mattered to her. The only thing matter to her was Fitz coming back out of this alive. Alive, talking to her about monkeys and sandwiches, about his next big invention.

            She wanted him back.

            “He’s going to be okay.” Skye stood next to her for the last four hours. Not moving, and just providing the comfort she needed to get through this. “He’s a fighter.”

            “He didn’t even want to go into the field.” They hadn’t spoken for most of the time, though Skye’s presence offered her some grounded solace. “I talked him into this.”

            “You didn’t talk him into anything.” Skye placed a hand on her shoulder. “And you need to get some rest. To clean up.” The same lines the hacker tried numerous times before. They hadn’t work then, they wouldn’t work now. She barely left Skye’s side, and it felt like a betrayal of the largest kind to leave Fitz. The kind where you introduce a beneficial anti-viral in hopes of vaccinating a village from the virus, but instead turn them into something awful. Like you let down your lab partner during the biggest chemistry final of the semester, of the year. No, she wouldn’t, not then, not now.

            “I can’t leave him alone. He needs me here,” Simmons said, half-protesting, half pleading. Before Skye could try again, a knock on the door interrupted the otherwise silent room.

            “Excuse me.” Both women turned to the source of the voice. “I was told you’d be down here.” Captain Steve Rogers stepped into the room, giving them both a smile. Bright blue eyes stared at them, bright and hopeful.

            He appeared like how she remembered from what seemed like so long ago when he stepped into her lab and ask a fairly innocent question about Coulson. The man with the plan, the hero of SHIELD, stood now in the doorway, looking for them. As if her heart could take any more pressure or pounding. She willingly described it as metaphorically being ready to explode.

            “Captain America?” Skye squeaked. She blushed brightly before recovering. “What – what are you doing here?”

            “Agent Romanov got word from Fury. Said you were grounded for a few weeks while repairs were being made.”  He stepped further into the room, taking up more space than she thought the man physical possessed. His presence, though overwhelming, comforted her in an odd way. She filed it away for later, decided to focus on the conversation rather than her emotional reactions.  She needed to remain calm, in control, and most importantly, here for Fitz. The same way he was there for her.

            There was no response to the statement. What else was there to be said? Simmons turned back to Fitz, watching him rest fitfully. He was breathing on his own, but until he woke up, they would not know the extent of the damage. Scans indicated limited changes, for now, she had to be patient.

            “And please, call me Steve.” The man held out his hand, taking Skye’s in it. He dwarfed both of them, standing tall and proud.  “Skye, right?” The hacker nodded, blushing again at the attention. “We’ve already met, Doctor Simmons.” Yes. Yes, they had, but she really couldn’t find the words to respond at the moment. “And I take it this is Doctor Fitz?” He stepped closer to the bed, staring down at Fitz. Simmons commanded her feet to move closer, protective of her best friend, but they stubbornly disobeyed her even as Skye held her arm.  She remained motionless, even as a stranger, Captain America but still a stranger, looked down at her best friend.

            “He’s stable,” Simmons said, managing her words carefully. He nodded, looking at the monitors and readouts as if he understood them.

            “I was told to relieve you.” He spun slightly, directing that smile at her. “Coulson said something about rest. So, I’ll stand guard.”

            “But…” Simmons tried to look around his large, strong chest at Fitz. He didn’t need a guard, he needed her, there, watching. She needed to be there, just in case. He gave everything for her. And she couldn’t count herself as his best friend if she didn’t do the same.

            “I’ll make sure she gets something to eat.” Skye tugged on Simmons’ arm, pulling her gently from the room.  

            “I’d appreciate that, miss.” Steve pulled a chair over, dropping his backpack to the floor. The muffled puff of air broke the steady rhythm of the monitors beeping and encoding Fitz’s stats. It brought her back to the reality of it, and the emotional reactions she until now had blocked off.

            Steve either ignores her silent tears or simply gives her the privacy she needs as Skye dragged her from the room. She finally broke down, crying silently into Skye’s arms. The rational part of her brain compared it to when she broke down in Fitz’s arms when Skye was hurt. The irrational part kept watching Fitz push that damn button and force her to save his life and swim them to safety.

            Skye says nothing, holding tightly as she wraps the other girl in a tight hug. The team were her family, and losing them would kill her. But Fitz….Fitz was nearly everything to her, and losing him would destroy her. More so than even deleting her entire body of publishing had (she could barely look Coulson in the eye after he announced that to them).

            “He’s in good hands.” Skye whispered, her breathing grounding her. The puffs of air against her ears unsettled her slightly, but not enough to pull away. “It’s Captain America. If anything goes wrong, he’ll call for backup.”

            “Yeah.” Simmons pulled back, trying to desperately clear her eyes as the tears continued. Crying released certain hormones in the body, designed to clear toxins away as well as show some need was being addressed. It was beneficial even to cry. But now that she started, all she wanted to do was stop.

            “Come on.” Skye stepped back, pulling on her hand. “We’ll get a cup of tea, maybe talk with Coulson a bit.”

            “Okay.” She let herself be pulled from her brother by her second best friend. She glanced over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of Fitz again, only to see Steve sitting guard on Fitz’s left side with his pad of paper in hand as pencil scratches filled the voids between the beeps of the monitors. She kept watching as long as she could, her ears straining as much as she could until finally the scratching and beeps faded away.

            Several hours later, after Skye fed her some awful tea and Coulson all but ordered her to take a nap (under the triple threats of May’s glare, Skye’s puppy eyes, and a sedative), she returned to Fitz’s room. Everything was just as she had left it, including the super soldier, sitting vigil with his back toward the doorway.

            “Was wondering how long you’d stay away.” Steve didn’t even turn around, but kept drawing.

            “How…Has anything changed?” She asked. She shuffled her feet, scuffing the floor slightly as she walked into the still quiet room.

            “Honestly? No clue,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to give her another grin. She felt her chest pound and her cheeks flush slightly. “I figured something would go ding when stuff.”

            Again, with the inappropriately timed emotional responses, to a man who she doubted she would see after tonight. Still, temporary inducement of norepinephrine and dopamine in the presence of a _very_ attractive man was not an abnormal physiological response. She accepted it, cataloged it, and tried to move on.

            “You…you watch Doctor Who?” She grasped onto the thread of conversation, instead of obsessing over Fitz. She stepped closer to the bed, which also allowed her to be closer to Steve, but really, it was more about Fitz.

            “Yeah, Natasha got me hooked on it, well, kind of.” He leaned forward in his chair, the trapezius flexing under his shirt as he shuffled in place. “She’s been trying to get me to watch more modern movies and television shows. I finally accepted that one after like a week of her annoying me.”

            Simmons didn’t know which to respond to first: that Captain America watched Doctor Who or the Black Widow was a closest nerd. Normally, this was something she’d be gushing with Fitz about, wondering what the two of them did or didn’t do. The thought bothered her for a moment, before remembering her part of the conversation.  

            “Which one is your favorite doctor?” She asked. Having a normal conversation over Fitz’s resting body did not seem appropriate, but she couldn’t leave and Steve didn’t seemed to be ready to move away either. That only left her with entertaining this rather interesting, if inane conversation.

            “I’ve only watched the new series,” Steve said, admitting it with another smile, “but I’d have to say probably Ten.”

            “Really? Mine is a toss-up between the Fourth and the Fifth Doctor. Fitz would say the Fourth is best Doctor, but then we have the Caves of Adronzani, and I just can’t help but love the Fifth a little bit more,” Simmons said, babbling over memories of watching it with Fitz as SciOps. “But, really, Ten was pretty terrific too.”

            “Caves of Adronzani?” Steve looked slightly confused and those damn perfect trapezius muscles flexed again as he shifted forward in his seat. He removed a small book, opening it up and writing down the words underneath lines about _The Forbidden Planet_ , _The Matrix_ ( _not the sequels, never the sequels_ scrawled beside it), and _Ender’s Game_. “I’ll have to watch that one then.” He gave her probably the most sincere smile she had ever seen on a man, and couldn’t help but relax a bit.

            “Did Agent Romanov give you the other suggestions?”  Simmons pointed toward the still open book in his hand.

            “Yeah, well, Sam gave me a few too, but if I don’t write them down, Natasha will just steal it and write them for me. Tony did too, but only once to spoil that the Dodgers moved from Brooklyn to LA.” Steve talked about the Avengers so casually, like they gathered every night to have dinner. Maybe they did. What did superheroes do on their down time? She wanted to ask who Sam was though, as that name never came up in the debriefings. Sitting next to him, she tried to overlay the image of Captain America from the videos she reviewed with the man before her. It almost worked, but the relaxed posture and tone of voice belayed anything the videos showed.

            “Does it help? I mean, do the suggestions help with everything being new?” The question popped out before she could stop it. She blushed bright red, hiding behind a veil of hair. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you that.”

            “No, it’s fine. But, yeah, they do.” Steve spoke softly, as she was a small child and he didn’t want to frighten her. To be honest, his approach helped her relax a bit, though she didn’t relish the idea of being thought of as a child by Captain America. “It helps to see the world a bit through someone else’s eyes. Plus, it makes trying new things fun.”

            “Has anyone suggested anything to you that you didn’t like?”

            Steve leaned back, his brow furrowing a little as he thought about her question. She wondered how she would cope if she was trapped for nearly seventy years. Part of her thought it would be a wonderful experience, but glancing at Fitz, she realized that those seventy years likely would mean not being able to see him again.

            “Starbucks.”  Steve’s response pulled her out of her morose thoughts.

            “What?” She tilted her head, trying to studying him a bit, as if she could understand his answer by watching him. Well, watching his face at least since that would help her know if he was lying. Maybe.

            “The coffee is just too weak,” he said, blushing a bit himself. She wondered why, momentarily thinking she should ask him if he was sick, because then he’d need to leave. Fitz could probably handle an infection at the moment, but she didn’t want to take the chances.

            “Too weak?” She repeated, staring at the captain some more.

            “Yeah, I mean, maybe it’s because I was a soldier, but it seems like the coffee is more water, less…substance than I remember. Plus, five dollars for a cup is kind of outrageous, even by my standards.” He gave her a self-deprecating grin at the mention of his age and reference of the Great Depression.   

            “I understand. Americans think they can make tea, and I know Skye tries, but really, it’s just not quite right.” She usually made the pot herself, letting Fitz make it a few times after observing and correcting his attempts. He indulged her, though his normal methods were certainly better than anyone else’s. Skye tried, and often failed, but she let the other girl do so, because even bad-ish tea made by family was better than anything she got from a convenience center like Starbucks.

            “Right?” Steve leaned toward her at this, smiling as if this was some massive secret she was sharing with him. “I could never get it myself, but I can’t seem to find anyone who can make it nowadays here. There have been times I thought I’d ask to borrow a jet, just to head over to England to get a pot.”

            “You drank tea?” She felt like an idiot, repeating the things he was saying, but the man before her became infinitely more fascinating as she conversed with him.

            “Yeah, I -”

            “Ready to go Steve?” A black man interrupted him from the doorway. He looked fit, like Tripplet or Ward, but skinnier than either of them.  Steve stood from his chair, grabbing his backpack from the floor with one hand and holding his pad of paper with the other.

            “Sorry, looks like a lead popped up for us.” Steve gave her another smile, and she couldn’t help but return it.

            “No, it’s alright.” She stood, moving to stand in front of him. From this distance, she caught the scent of sandalwood  soap as he moved around. “Thank you, for staying, I mean, you didn’t have to, but…”

            “Even if he didn’t know who I was, having someone there when you wake up is important,” Steve said. He gave her hand a squeeze, before shrugging the backpack around his broad shoulders. Her heart felt like it was pounding again, and she hoped he couldn’t hear it trying to get out of her chest.

            Simmons remained still, watching Steve walk away. She tried to command her feet to move, her mouth to speak about something, anything, but the bottom seemed to fall out of it all. Talking about something other than Fitz, which everyone seemed to want to do, made her feel…better. Not great, because Fitz was her number one concern, but certainly she felt little of the depression she was heading towards.

            “Almost forget.” Steve spun around, looking a little chagrined. “Think you can hand these out for me?”  He held out a small stack of paper, no larger than notecards. She took them, getting the full wattage of his smile again. “It was great talking to you, Doctor Simmons.”

            “Jemma,” she finally found her voice. “Please, call me Jemma. And thank you.”

            “Any time.” He walked out, but she caught the other man’s smirk before they both disappeared from the doorway.

            “That was very strange,” Simmons said to Fitz. She turned back to the chairs resting side by side, watching over Fitz. “You’re going to be so jealous that I got to meet Captain America.” Sitting down, she played with the cards in her hand. The edges of the cards were rough, freshly torn from the cardstock. Glancing at them, she caught sight of the same style of drawing in Coulson’s card (hung proudly in his office and taken with them when they got off the plane for the Playground).

            On top, Coulson stared up at her, a determined look etched into his face as he held the Chitari weapon forward. Next, May’s glare nearly made her shudder, but he managed to catch the fluidity of her movements. Skye was next, a keyboard in one hand and an ICER in the other, looking every bit of the hero Simmons knew was in her. Triplet was outfitted in several of the Howling Commandos’ classic gear, smiling widely. Staring at the image, she wondered when Steve had the opportunity to meet with the other agent, or even knew about the archaic, though admittedly helpful gear.

            There were three cards left. Fitz stood akimbo, with the Dwarves swirling around him. He appeared every bit of the hero she knew he was. It wasn’t a look of determination or bravery on his face, but somehow, even with never meeting him, Steve drew Fitz as she saw him: looking brightly to the rest of the world, trying to show them how wonderful it could be. He saw the best in everything, in everyone. Even Ward. He refused to believe Ward betrayed them.  The Dwarves were in movement, flittering around him like a shield.

            The next was a picture of her and Fitz, arms around each other. Just the two of them, together, facing the world. This reflected their world; everything about her could not be summed unless Fitz stood with her. She choked back a sob at how happy they both looked. 

            Her finger traced Fitz’s smile, wide and proud. Just like he had been at the Academy, and when Coulson picked them to be on his team. This was the Fitz she wanted back.

            “Captain Rogers leave?” Coulson stepped into the room, his eyes focused on Fitz.

            “Yeah, something about a lead? I’m not sure what he was looking for, but it seems important.” She waited for a response from Coulson, and waited, and waited. Now, the only thing to break the silence was the beeping of the machines monitoring Fitz. “Sir, if we are to be a new SHIELD, we need to be able to trust one another.”

            “I understand that.” Coulson still didn’t answer the question.

            “Sir, who is Captain Rogers going after?” She spoke sternly, standing firm on the position.  Steve took the time to care for her friend, even when he just waited. The least she could do was extend that friendship.

            “The Winter Soldier,” Coulson said, after several more awkward moments of silences. “He and Sam are trying to track him down.”  She let out her breath, slowly and controlled. She hated confrontation, especially if it ended badly.  She couldn’t lie or deal with conflict directly well. But for her family, she would.

            “Sam was the other man? The one who stopped by?”  She knew who the Winter Soldier was, read the debriefing and the recovered files about him. How they managed to create and graft the arm onto Sergeant Barnes was fascinating. She discussed the possibilities of techno-biological enhancements before, especially in light of the Deathlok program, but the Winter Soldier possessed the arm for nearly as long as Captain Rogers was on ice.

            “Yeah, he helped out quite a bit,” Coulson said. She wanted to ask more questions, demand more answers from him, but the anguish on his face mirrored his own. “I’m sorry.”

            She closed her mouth, stopping the question before the words even formed. She waited a second, a heartbeat, a beep on the machine. “Sir?”

            “I asked too much of both of you. And now…” Coulson sat down heavily in the chair.

            “Sir, we’re agents of SHIELD. We knew what could happen.” She spoke for Fitz, but they were the same words they argued about on more one occasion.  But they stayed. They believed in what SHIELD stood for, even with everything going on around them. They made a difference. Fitzsimmons helped people.  “We took the same oath you did, sir.

            “Fitz is…uncomfortable with change. He needs things to be stable, strong. And when it’s not, he…” She didn’t know how to describe it, without betraying who Fitz was.

            “No, I got that,” Coulson shook his head. “I just wanted to…” he let out a sigh as he tried to find the words. He wrung his hands, rubbing them in an effort to evoke some self-protection. “I don’t like losing my agents.”

            “I don’t think anyone does sir.” Simmons glanced down at the floor. The cards came back into her vision. She hadn’t forgotten about them. “Sir, Captain- Steve asked me to give this to you.” She shuffled the cards, taking care not to bend or rough the edges. She pulled the one for Coulson off the stack and held it out.

            “Another one?” Coulson chuckled, but he gazed at the card with the same intensity that she saw when he got the first one.

            “He made one for the entire team,” she said. She left out the one of both her and Fitz, because really, that seemed personal (even though it was from a semi-stranger).  “I…I will bring them with me to dinner tonight. To hand out to them.” She glanced back at Fitz.

            “If you want, I’ll stick around to watch him for you.” She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

            “Thank you sir, I just…I don’t want him to wake up alone.” She took Fitz’s hand in hers, squeezing it, willing some life back into him. The warm hand just rested in her palm, not moving, but still producing heat at the very least.

            “I will stay with him for a bit. Go, have some dinner.” He nudged her aside, taking her place at Fitz’s side. “Share the wealth.” He nodded his head toward the cards in her hand.

            “You sure?” She shuffled in place. “I mean, you are okay with staying?”

            “Like you said, he shouldn’t wake up alone. Now, go have dinner. I bet the others have already worked out schedule for being with Fitz.” Simmons stared at her boss, trying to decipher the directions. “You’re not going to disappoint Captain America, are you?”

            “Steve spoke with you?”

            “Steve, is it?” She tried to control the emotional reaction, but the heat on her cheeks provided other evidence. “Yes, he spoke to us before he left. He asked we make sure you slept a little, ate something. He didn’t think Fitz would want you to waste away before he woke up”

            “What?”

            “Told Skye something about learning how to make tea?” Coulson gave her a little smile, it playing on his lips. “Not sure what he meant by that.”

            “Yeah, we were talking about it before he left.” The heat on her cheeks seemed embedded in them. She let her gaze fall to the ground in an effort to hide the embarrassment.

            “Well, Skye’s been looking up how to make tea for the last twenty minutes. I think she doesn’t want to let you down,” Coulson said. “None of us do.”

            “Okay.” Simmons walked away from Fitz, this time under her own power. She wanted to stay, but he was safe with their family. 

            She left the room, the cards held carefully in her hand. She wouldn’t bend them, scratch them, or anything. Cases would have to be requisitioned for them, though given their downtime, those should be rather easy to get. Everyone would likely frame the, so the cases were important. She wondered if Fitz would fight her over the one of them together. She’d trade the one of her, which she finally looked at.

            Her face stared back at her. She wore a lab coat, with an ICER poking out from a holster. She appeared frazzled, accented by the tentative smile, like she was afraid. Not of the enemy, but maybe of not being enough? Yet, even with the nervousness, she looked strong….brave. There was a spark behind her eyes, like she knew the truth and it scared her, but she stood up to it anyway. How….how had he seen that in her? What had he seen in her in their few, short, admittedly intense interactions?

            Shaking her head, Simmons tried to wipe the weariness and wetness from her eyes. She needed to grab dinner, drink bad-ish tea made by Skye and then maybe try and sleep for a little (or work in the lab to distract) before heading back to sit with Fitz. Yes, there was too much to do to be thinking about befuddling blue eyes or their owner.

          

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: All the things I needed to say, I said at the beginning of this story (see the author's notes above).


End file.
